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And Lo, it turneth out that a Jericho Kiss is a common wine urn smashed against a wall and then rammed in the face of the enemy.

Upon hearing which the Samaritan, answering, said: Nay, nay, and thrice times nay, I stoppeth by the wayside only to hitch up the hem of mine garment.

Then spake up the Levite, who having crossed over, was at the Samaritan’s elbow, saying: In thy sandals, O friend, I wouldst not get involved. This lot are trouble. Leave it out — they are not worth it.

But the Samaritan, answering, said: But that poor bloke over there bleedeth like a pig, whilst the robbers continue to kicketh the living daylights outeth of him. We shouldst bind up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast.

And the Levite said: What, taketh them on? Thou must be joking.

again the Samaritan answereth, saying: Yea, but wert we not told from on high to be neighbour unto them that fall amongst thieves — in other words to haveth a goeth.

Then did the Levite reply, saying: That was last year. This is this year. The advice of the mayor of Jericho is that this year, if thou knowest what is good for thee, thou wilt walk on by, as the saying goeth.

And behold, the Samaritan held his ground, saying: But we cannot leave the poor boob where he hath fallen. He needeth help.

But the Levite likewise held his ground, saying: There art trained para-camel teams for this sort of emergency.

As for yonder two robbers, they are but yobs, who will be sorted as soon as an angel of the Lord getteth here.

Then scoffed the Samaritan, sneering: Pah. The last angel of the Lord we had round here was in the last century BC. They are kept indoors with all the scroll work they have to doeth.

The Levite then said unto him: Spake thou a mouthful there, brother. This neighbourhood hast gone down the nick. Dost thou know that shepherds are now having to watch their flocks by night, in case of sheep rustlers?

I see a couple of angels of the Lord have turned up across the road at last, said the Samaritan.

They’re not angels of the Lord, they’re camel wardens, said the Levite. Letteth us have it away on our toes into the inn, out of their way.

Starling's nest

Among the many qualities that made the veteran broadcaster Sir Charles Wheeler ‘the reporters’ reporter’ was that when he asked a question, he waited for the answer.

It is a lost art. Particularly on Radio 4 news programmes, which can be like listening to a nest of starlings. It has become a rare experience to hear any interviewee’s answer uninterrupted.

The girlie interviewers, in particular, seem more interested in making clever-clever points than in seeking information.

Quite rudely, they will barge into an interview in mid-sentence in order to put another smartypants question which, in its turn, will go only half-answered.

Then, as the interviewer follows the BBC line on Europe or global warming or whatever, comes the inevitable ‘But surely’ — as in ‘But surely the number of dead whales is a wake-up call if ever there was one’ — as blatant an exercise in question-begging as you are ever likely to hear.

Until the next time. The best advice I ever heard about radio interviewing was from Ed Murrow — another broadcasting legend.